Relighting The Flames
by SenecaCrane'sBeard
Summary: It's 26 years after Katniss Everdeen became the Girl on Fire. The rebellion has failed, the Capitol has regained control, and the Hunger Games continue. Can one girl from District 11 relight the flames of hope that so long ago died out? 4th Quarter Quell. *On temporary Hiatus*
1. Chapter 1

**Think the Hunger Games are over? Think again.**

**DISCLAMER: Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins, not me. Characters are my own.**

**The Fourth Quarter Quell**

**It's my first Fan Fiction, so please review! :)**

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><p>"<em>On the One hundredth Anniversary of the Hunger Games, as a reminder to the fact that the Capitol holds many secret strengths unbeknownst to the districts, the change for this year will not be known to anyone but the Gamemakers and the capitol officials, until the Hunger Games begin."<em>

I watch, as though in slow motion, Petra Mulroy's hand reach into the glass bubble of names, where I knew mine sat in waiting, written nine times on various sheets of paper. She swirls her long, hot pink nails around the sea of paper, pulls out a single strip, and unfolds it with a flourish. She pauses dramatically, and says,

"Rhubarb Tarrowell."

At that moment, I swear I see my life flash before my eyes.

Although, I'm sure I'm getting ahead of myself. In case you didn't realize, I'm Rhubarb Tarrowell, Ruby for short. I'm 13 years old, I live in District 11, and I just got reaped for the Hunger Games. Not just any Hunger Games, the 4th Quarter Quell. The 100th Hunger Games. Lucky me.

Behind me, my mother lets out a dry sob, and I turn towards her and wrap my arms firmly around her. With a shaking hand, she gently tucks in a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. I see my father place his hand comfortingly on my mother's shoulder. I opened my mouth to talk, but Petra's unnaturally cheerful voice calls out,

"Rhubarb! On the stage, if you please."

A pair of peacekeepers grab my arms and roughly pull me out of my mother's grasp and to the stage. I wrench myself out of their grip.

"I could have managed it myself," I mutter angrily.

The taller one snarls at me, and I fall silent under his gaze. In the silence, my shoes clatter loudly on the wooden steps to the stage. I look out over the audience. Few faces pop out at me. My mother and father, my best friend April. The rest are hazy. No one volunteers to take my place. I don't blame them.

Petra gives a few claps of applause for me, in which no one else joins in, and then moves over to the boys' bubble.

"And the lucky boy, representing District 11 for the 4th Quarter Quell will be…"

She repeats the same process, and slowly pulls out the strip of paper. She's bobbing on the balls of her feet excitedly. I try to lean over and see the name, but the tall Peacekeeper stabs me in the back with the wooden end of his spear.

"Just try that again," he hisses in my ear.

I'm so distracted that I barely catch the name that falls from Petra's mouth.

"Alix Powell."

My stomach plummets even further then I thought possible, and Alix walks onto the stage. Silently and obediently, unlike me. But Alix has always been like that. He may be a year older then me, but he's one of my best friends, other than April. He stands next to me, and I swear I see him give me the smallest of smiles, but I blink and the next moment he is looking forward, expression as blank as always.

"Congratulations to Rhubarb and Alix!" Petra says sweetly, starting another solo round of applause. Honestly, I wish she would stop calling me that. Ruby is fine. Petra then pulls out a piece of paper.

"_Hem hem_," she coughs sickeningly, and then begins reading the boring old speech they give every year. My eyes become misty as my focus ebbs away.

I suddenly feel a hand on my shoulder, I quickly turn around and I see Gregor Frye, the Winner of the 87th Hunger Games. He smiles grimly at Alix and me, and then addresses the crowd as Petra finishes, his eyes sparkling.

"Well, these two look like survivors!" He announces, with a voice of strained happiness. A few people smile weakly.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to take them to the back room. Family members and friends, please feel free to line up and join them."

He quickly drops his smile and steers us forcefully down a staircase, which was then guarded by Peacekeepers if anyone wanted to follow us. Like anyone would dare try.

As soon as we were out of the crowd's sight, Gregor stops us and looks us over. "Nice shape…good muscle…" He says, almost absentmindedly as he picks up one of Alix's well toned arms and lets it fall back to his side.

"Excuse me," I say, "Mr.-"

"Just call me Gregor."

"Okay, Gregor then. Where is the other trainer? The female one?"

Gregor looks at me for a moment and then rolls his eyes.

"I was hoping we could wait before you meet her, but if you'd like…BRIAR!" He shouts suddenly, making both me and Alix jump.

"What?" Comes a loud and irritated reply from somewhere to our right.

"The new tributes want to meet you!" Gregor yells back.

There is some irritated grumbling, the obnoxiously loud clatter of 10-inch capitol styled heels, and from behind the stage curtain a woman walks over. For a moment, I mistake her for someone from the Capitol, and then I notice the freckly skin and olive green eyes many of us in District 11 have. She puts her hands on her hips and looks Alix and me up and down, her gold mascara glittering in the sun.

"And who are these two vagabonds?" She says with a voice, as though we were something disgusting on the bottom of her shoe.

Gregor sighs. "This is Alix and-"

"Ruby," I interrupt, "Ruby is fine."

Gregor smiles. A true smile, and I swear the sun gets brighter. "Ruby, of course. This is, Briar. Briar Patyar, winner of the 93rd Hunger Games."

Briar waves her hand as though brushing the air away and says, "Please, no pictures."

As if either Alix or I could afford a camera.

I immediately decide that I dislike this woman. Has the fame of victory gotten to her head, that much? How did _she _survive?

Before anyone can retort, Petra Mulroy walks over.

"Now, now," she says, in that ridiculous Capitol accent, "we'll have time for this later. We need to get Alix and Rhubarb into some private rooms for goodbyes."

Glad to get away from Briar, I allow Petra to walk me into a plain room, guarded by, who else? Peacekeepers.

"Now, your visitors will come in one at a time, after your family, of course," Petra says, "I'll see you afterwards."

She walks out of the room, and I collapse onto the white couch. The weight of my situation crashes onto me, and I bury my face in my hands. No, no, no, no, NO. This could not have happened. I want to cry. I want to run out of the room screaming. But I know I can't. The capitol won't let me. There are only two paths ahead of me. Victory, or death.

The door opens and I look up, composing my face into something resembling a smile. Probably looks like I have a toothache. I wait, and my parents walk in.

At first, they say nothing; they sit down on either side of me and put their arms around me in a tight hug. The urge to cry becomes more powerful then ever. I sit still and wait for them to let go. If I move just a little bit, I'll burst into tears. When they finally do let go, I sigh in relief and swallow my emotions.

"You're going to win, I can feel it," says my Father in a shaky voice.

"Don't say that Papa," I whisper, kissing him on each cheek. "You don't want to jinx me, do you?"

"I suppose not," he says with a sad chuckle. "Good bye Ruby. Good luck."

My mother runs her fingers through my hair.

"Your father said it all for me," she mutters, and then continues. "Wait a minute."

She reaches behind her, undoing the latch of her necklace. She puts it in my hands and closes them.

"Take it. For luck, in the arena."

"Oh Mom, I couldn't."

"No, please do."

The look in her eyes is pleading, and I nod.

"Thank you," she whispers, pressing her lips to my forehead. "And may the odds,"

"Be ever in your favor." I finish for her.

She nods, and a peacekeeper walks in. I recognize him from town. His name is Dedalius. He's extremely good-natured. He loves watching over the younger kids before they can go to school, telling them stories. Every Saturday, he gives me a flower. I remember last week's flower, a violet. I still have it in a vase at home. I've really taken a liking to him, and I realize with a pang that I'll miss him also.

"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Tarrowell, I'll have to ask you to leave. People are waiting," he says.

"Oh, of course. Come on dear," my mother replies, taking my father's hand. Together they leave the room, leave me. And it could be forever. Dedalius pats my shoulder, pulling a honeysuckle out of his chest pocket. He puts it behind my ear.

"Good luck kid," he whispers and leaves.

My last visitor is April. She sits down next to me and gives me a stern look.

"Rhubarb Tarrowell, you better win this or I will never forgive you."

I roll my eyes. "Exactly the comforting thing I was looking for," I mutter.

She shrugs. Her and I both know that caring is not her strong suit. She stands up and pats my head.

"Good luck, and remember I'll be watching. So when you do survive this, any embarrassing things you do will be used against you for the rest of your life."

She walks out of the room, leaving me alone. Just the way I'll be in the arena. Alone.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few hours are a blur.

During the ride to District 11's train station, I realize my hand has been closed around a sharp object that is now cutting into my fingers. Slowly, I open my fist, and lying in my palm is my mother's necklace. This is the first time I've had a good look at it. It is a detailed carving of a flower, made out of gold and painted delicately around the edges. From the bottom petal hangs a thin strand of thread with 2 beads. One green and one blue, and ending with 2 feathers. I know their breed straight away. Mockingjay. Just looking at them fills me up with confidence. Mockingjay. The symbol of the rebellion. I look up to see the entrance of the train station right outside my window.

As soon as I step outside, I am engulfed in cameras. I try to keep my face emotionless, and find it relatively easy to. Alix stepped out from behind me, and I smile at him. He nods at me, and I wait for him to walk next to me. We enter together, the crowd of cameras not far behind.

Showing friendship so early into the games is dangerous, but I refuse to let the Capitol ruin the bond we have. We walk inside, and I peer into a screen above us. Alix and I both look calm, our faces emotionless. I have no plan to win over the crowd, but I better think of one fast.

I step into the train and turn around, the paparazzi in my face again. I give them a small wave, and the cameras eat it up, all clicking and flashing simultaneously. The doors of the train close, shutting off what could be my last glimpse of the only world I have ever known.

Petra, who stepped in after us, guides us down the hallway. I can feel the speed of the train, a light vibration under my feet. I've never been on a train, but I doubt the ones in the district 11 run this smoothly, as though they're riding on paper, or go this fast.

My expression must give away my thoughts, for Petra says,

"These trains can go up to 300 miles an hour, with no turbulence."

I nod, impressed.

We stop outside two doors, one on each side of the hall.

"Rhubarb, this is your room," Petra points to the door on the left, "Alix, yours is on the right. Dinner is in an hour, end compartment. So you might want to smarten yourselves up before then!"

She laughs, and annoying, high-pitched titter, and walks away.

"So," I say to Alix, "here we are."

"Here we are," he replies in his deep, calming voice.

"I guess I'll see you at dinner," I say, opening the door to my room and stepping inside.

He nods, and I close the door.

My first thought as I look around the room is,

_If they can afford this in a train, what do the capitol rooms look like?_

It is truly spectacular.

One whole wall is dedicated to a curved window, where the landscape outside is a group of blurred colors.

There is a bed, which I collapse on. The sheets feel like silk, and I spend a minute running my hands along it. Just looking at this spotlessly clean room makes me feel dirty.

I undress and step into the shower, snorting with laugher as I remember Petra's laugh. Honestly, have Capitol people ever listened to themselves speak?

Even the shower is impressive. It's filled with buttons that change the temperature of the water, along with the many different types of soap you can use.

I set the water to a comfortable heat, and spend a moment messing with the soap buttons. I allow my shoulders to relax for the first time in ages, relishing the comfort of having a hot shower. Back home, the water is barely warm, and turns ice cold after a minute or so.

I press another button and the water shuts off, replaced by a burst of air that dries my hair in seconds. I step out and look in the closet, wrinkling my nose at the capitol clothes. Bright pinks, blues, and greens that hurt my eyes if I stare at them too long. I wear my reaping dress.

It is a dark green color, with black boots. My mother picked it out for me. She said the green would bring out my eye color. As I look in the mirror, I think she's right. My face has a clean pink glow to it, my blonde hair looking almost gold. My green eyes look brighter then ever.

I brush down my dress, hoping to flatten any wrinkles, and set out of the room.

The walk down the hallway seems steep, and I realize the train must be traveling down a hill. The last compartment is framed by a large door. There is an amazing smell coming from inside, so I take no time walking in.

I'm in a plain room with large windows. In the middle is a long, polished wood table. Alix is already sitting at it, turning his fork in his hand, looking impressed at the shining silver. Petra stands up as soon as she sees me.

"I was just about to come get you, good, good. Sit down, I expect Gregor and Briar will be here any minute," she says.

I sit down next to Alix and inhale deeply. There is the smell of food on the air. I wonder where it is.

Gregor comes a moment later, smiling at me and Alix and sitting at the end of the table. We wait. After at least five minutes Gregor pulls out a stopwatch and sighs.

"I suppose we should start without her."

Petra nods. "Yes, no use waiting any longer."

I sit up straighter, glad our meal won't be over shadowed by Briar, and turn around as a small metal door opens. 2 waiters come out. Both black haired, with round faces and plain expressions.

They place some kind of thick soup at each of us, and walk out of the room without saying a word. They remind me of Alix.

I immediately start eating, my hunger overcoming my manners. The soup is creamy and there has a nutty flavor to it that I recognize being lentils. No food at home has this kind of rich taste. I drain the bowl quickly.

Following the soup comes the main course and dessert. Thick, juicy cuts of steak artistically resting on a bed of roasted vegetables and rice. Cold vanilla ice cream smothered in chocolate syrup and topped with mint leaves.

I haven't eaten this much in one meal my whole life. This could feed me and my parents for a day.

Petra nods approvingly at my appetite.

"Best to enjoy the food while you can. You'll need it in the arena."

I finish eating and lean back in my chair, my dress feeling slightly tight. I realize, for the first time in my life, I'm full.

Gregor takes us to a compartment to watch the reapings of the other districts. This I'm interested in. I want to see what I'm up against. A few people really stand out to me. A tall, well muscled boy from district 6. One of the careers, a girl from district 2. With her lean shape and bright eyes, she seems more like a beauty model then a fighter, but her looks could help her win more sponsor. And a volunteer boy from district 4. He takes the place of a younger girl who shares his bright blue eyes. I bet she is his sister. His confident face as he looks at the camera sends my heart pounding against my chest.

I watch my reaping. I see myself hug my tear stained mother. The peacekeepers dragging me to the stage. My face looks red, but my expression is stiff. I give myself a mental pat on the back. I look like a formidable opponent. On screen, Gregor pulls us off the stage and it switches to district 12.

Two small children. Probably 12 years old. They look skinny and underfed, even more so then the kids in district 11. They don't bother me much, but one thing does. The trainers. I know who they are. Anyone would. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The leaders of the rebellion. Katniss has a proud, sharp face. Her eyes shine darkly. Anyone trained by her, I should be worried about. Peeta on the other hand, looks kind. His head is topped with light blonde hair. His face is pale, but covered in old burn marks. His hands are covered in flour. I wonder how tough he is. The capitol anthem comes on, and the screen goes dark.

Gregor applauds us.

"Well done, well done. You guys looked excellent up there. It would surprise me if the other tributes aren't marking you as true opponents as we speak."

I smile. Gregor stands up.

"Now, you should both go back into your rooms and get a good rest, we should arrive at the Capitol in the morning."

He leaves the room, and I'm alone with Alix. He looks at me, his dark brown eyes boring into mine. I know we are thinking the same thing. All of the children up there, from the sad, young ones from District 12 to the snarling careers, they all want to kill us. And unless we want to die, we will have to kill them.


	3. Chapter 3

It takes me hours to fall asleep. I lay there wondering where the day had gone.

"_Stop it Ruby! You'll get my dress all wet!"_

April and I had been playing in a small lake by our houses. It was full of clear water and very quiet if you get there early enough. Most kids were inside, picking out dresses and suits for the reaping.

"_Why do you care about that old thing?" _She had been wearing an old dress that had belonged to her mother. I guess it had once been a bright sky blue, but was now a grayish color, and you could obviously tell where it had been ripped and sown up again.

"_Come on, you know if I get even a spot of mud on it, my mum would kill me."_

"_Ha ha, not my problem!"_

We were chasing each other around the lake, jumping over logs and splashing water in the other's face.

"_RHUBARB! APRIL! GET OVER HERE, OR WE'LL BE LATE!"_

That was my mother calling us. We had walked away from the lake laughing.

I coughed. Laughing. The word sounded strange to me now. Like something normal people did. Not tributes. Not those doomed to die. I rolled over and closed my eyes, turning fitfully.

Back home, at times like these, when I couldn't fall asleep, I'd go to my parent's room. My mother would pick me up and rock me gently, until I had calmed down. If only she could be here now, with her arms around me.

I sniffed sadly and gathered myself up in a tight ball, drifting into an uneasy sleep full of Knife-wielding children, and the sobs of my mother as she watches me die in front of her eyes.

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><p>I am woken abruptly the next morning, as a sudden burst of light is shined into my eyes. I open them to see Petra Mulroy, in a sharply angled dress of shocking pink, opening my curtains and letting the sunshine flood into the room. She turns towards me smiling. She has rhinestones surrounding her eyes in swirl patterns. Ridiculous.<p>

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I grumble.

But she grabs my arms and pulls me out of bed.

"Today's a big day, better go out there and face it!" she cries.

Once I get my balance, she leaves the room skipping.

"Insane, the whole lot of them," I mutter to myself, pulling off my nightgown.

I splash some water in my face, blinking away the spots of white light swimming in front of my eyes. I turn to grab my dress, but I find that it's not on the rim of the shower, where I had left it. Petra must have taken it to get washed. Or maybe burned. I furiously dig through the closet, ignoring every outfit covered in faux fur, flashing lights, or sequins. Finally, in the very back corner, I find a plain black dress. I pull it on, aware of the fact it barely touches my knees. I rummage through the sock drawer and find some black knee socks. I find my mother's necklace crumpled on the bathroom floor. It must have fallen out of my dress's pocket yesterday. Attach the clasp around my neck, the flower pendent hanging at the bottom of my neck. I run to the dining compartment, where Petra and Briar are already seated.

Petra waves for me to sit down across from Briar. I do so reluctantly, but Briar makes no nasty comments about how I look. In fact, I doubt she even noticed me enter the room. Her eyes are unfocused and bloodshot, and when she yawns I can smell the strong scent of alcohol that makes me cough.

Alix comes a few minutes later, dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt. He has bags under his eyes, and I'm guessing he didn't get much sleep, if any. Gregor follows him, looking awake, but definitely not as cheerful as Petra.

As soon as he sits down, we are served breakfast. If I had any doubts about the way people from the capitol eat, they were erased as soon as the platters reach the table. Mounds of eggs, sizzling bacon, and hash browns. There is a large bowl of cold fruit in the center, and a sharply dressed waiter pours cups of hot brown liquid. I take a sip of it. It has a slightly bitter, chocolaty flavor, but also tastes of cinnamon and cream, things that I have tried few times in my life.

"Thank you," I say to the waiter. He doesn't reply, merely nods and backs away into the kitchen.

"Quiet, aren't they?" I say teasingly to Alix, "Remind you of anyone?"

He smiles, but no one else does.

"What?" I say, looking around at the grim face of Gregor.

"Don't laugh, that was an Avox," he whispers.

"A what?"

"Avox," he says in the same quiet voice, "Criminals punished by the capitol. He can't reply. He doesn't have a tongue. The capitol cut it off."

I stare at him wide eyed, but he says nothing more, and I turn to my meal, eating in silence.

Petra finishes first, and dabbing at her mouth with a napkin says,

"I expect we'll be in the capitol shortly. You'll then get to meet with your stylists!"

She looks us up and down, her eyes lingering on Alex's calloused hands and my slightly bruised arms.

Stylists. These are the capitol people I'm actually interested in meeting. Not that I care about my looks, because I don't, but the fact that they are they are the ones who will set our titles, the ones who try to make us stunning, the ones who encourage people to help us during the games by donating items so we can succeed. Hopefully.

The lights suddenly dim, and the train makes an unexpected lurch upward. I grab the table for support.

"Don't worry," says Petra, "We're only making our way through a tunnel to the Capitol."

My stomach can't help but leap excitedly at the mention of the Capitol. After all my life of hearing about it, and seeing it on screens, I'll finally be able to see it in real life. The colorful buildings, the insane styles, the incredible foods…my thoughts trail off.

"So, who will be our stylists?" I ask, bringing myself back to earth.

"Oh, We're not sure yet. You'll see soon enough," Gregor replies.

I stand up.

"I'll be in my room, if you need me." I run out of the dining compartment and into my room. I enjoy the silence of it, other than the steady vibrations of the train. There's a knock at the door, I hesitate, and then say "Come in."

The door opens slightly, and Alix sticks his head in. "Hey. Can we talk?"

"Sure," I say. "Have a seat." I point to the bed.

"Thanks."

We both sit down, and he grabs my shoulders and looks me straight in the eye.

"Ruby, we need a plan."

"W-what?"

"We need a plan to beat the other tributes, woo the capitol, and win the games. Because I will make sure, one of us comes out of there alive."

"One of us?"

"You know the rules, only one winner. Period," he adds, as I open my mouth to argue.

"So, what are we going to do? I mean, what's our strategy going to be?"

"That's exactly what I-"

But he's cut off as the train compartment is bathed in bright light, giving us our first ever view of the capitol itself. My mouth drops open and I rush to the window, taking in the neon colors of the buildings, the crazed outfits of the people living there, the way that even the sky seemed brighter and friendlier out here in this land of perfection. People on the streets look up as our train passes, pointing and smiling and waving at their new sources of entertainment. Because that's all we are to them. Pigs prepped and raised for the slaughter.


	4. Chapter 4

_Capitol_

_Arena Control Room-Authorized Personnel Only_

"Sir, Mr. President, I don't think you understand. I won't-"

"No. I don't think _you _understand, Mr. Lupei. Just because of your past, just because your from District 1 and got the exclusive chance to live in the capitol, doesn't mean you'll be treated any different then any other Head Gamemakers."

"Of course not Sir, wherever did you get the idea-?"

"Listen to me Lupei. You know the past of the games. You know what happened twenty-five years ago, and could very well happen today. Contain the hope. Don't let it out of your control. You know the consequences."

"Of course I do. You don't think that I'm going to be like Seneca Crane and-"

"Don't say that name. That subject is not allowed."

"Sorry Sir, it won't happen again."

"For your sake it better not. I'm going now. Remember this Lupei. No matter what happens, show—no—mercy."

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><p>The next few hours were some of the most painful of my life. And that comes from a girl who has spent days in the burning hot sunlight farming until her hands are bruised and red. My 'prep crew' as Petra called it, undressed me, washed and scrubbed my hair until my scalp was aching, carved my nails into elegant circular shapes, lathered me in some sticky substance and painfully ripped it off me so that my body was hair free, and was currently scrubbing my face with rocky brown gunk.<p>

"Is this _really _necessary?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Of course deary!" said one of them with a tinkling laugh. Her name was Nereus, and she was unforgettable, as were all of them. I haven't met many capitol people, and I've heard they all look like this, but if they do, they must all be insane. She has leopard patterned skin, strange I know, but she actually pulls it off. Her hair is simple, long and black but extremely shiny and the ends are tipped with gold.

Lucilla gives me an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

"Always the same, they are," she says, "so ignorant! They don't understand how important this is!"

I try my best to hide an angry growl. Me? Ignorant?

My other two stylists are Lucilla and Alexios are twins. They share the same purple hair, hers short and spiked, his in a ponytail down his back. Lucilla has flashing eyes. And I literally mean flashing. They change different colors every 30 seconds. She told me they were contacts, but for a while I believed they were real, the kind of surgery the capitol has these days. Alexios eyes are pale grey, with aqua streaks in them. They have the same wide eyed, cheerful school kid expression. The rest of their outfit is the same, orange 2-inch long nails and sky-blue eye shadow.

Alexios brings out a hose and gently sprays off the dirt. I cautiously raise my hand and rub it, gasping at the perfect smoothness.

"You really are lovely dear," says Lucilla. I blush. "Oh, don't be ashamed, the crowd loves a girl like you! A shame Rom said not to do anything major to you until he gets a good look at you.

Rom. I've heard them say that name a few times, and I'm guessing he's my stylist.

"When will I see, uh, 'Rom'?" I ask.

"Oh, in a minute or two I'm sure," Nereus replies. "We're done here."

Sure enough, after a minute the door slides electronically open, and a man walks in. I have an immediate desire to cover myself up, but, with difficulty, I keep my arms steady by my side.

The man before me was impossibly handsome, with well muscled arms and tan skin, toffee brown eyes and a dazzling white smile. The scariest part of this look was how natural it seemed. He was a lot younger then most stylists, in his early twenties it seemed. He held out his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Ruby, I'm Romulus."

He had a voice to match his look. An accent, not a common capitol one, but one that made you almost begging to hear more.

I shook his hand rather reluctantly, still aware of my bare body.

"Alexios, Lucilla, Nereus, you can go now, thank you," he said.

They all ran out, smiling widely and bowing stupidly.

Romulus noticed me staring at the door, with most likely, a disgusted look on my face.

"Oh come on, you've got to love them, they're always a cheery lot."

"Yeah, you could say that…" I mumble

"Now now, no need for that attitude, I won't bite." he says, winking at me.

His words make me laugh. Finally someone here who's got a sense of humor.

"That's better. Now, let me see here…"

He put his hand under my chin and lifted my face up slightly, then walked around my body.

"Lovely," he said, clapping his hands together. "Now, put this on, and follow me."

He hands me a plastic dress, not unlike the ones people wear in hospitals. I put it on, and he takes me through a door leading to a closed-in balcony lounge. He sits down on a velvet couch and presses a button on the glass table in front of him. Two plates full of food pop out, followed by small glasses filled with dark red liquid.

Romulus pats the seat next to him and I sit down, looking from my meal, a mouth watering lamb stew, to the drink, which looks a lot like the wine I'd seen my father drink. Like before, Romulus seems to know what I'm thinking about.

"Don't worry, it's cranberry juice. Same for me, I'm strictly non-alcoholic."

I nod reassured, and take a sip. It's similar to the kind we have at home. Sour, but also sweet. As we start eating, Romulus smiles.

"Well, welcome to the capitol. I'm guessing everything is up to your expectations?"

"That…and more," I say.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, the Romulus dabs at his mouth with a napkin, and sits back.

"Now, why I'm here. As you know, in an hour's time, there will be the tribute parade."

I nod. The tribute parade is the typical time to show off the tributes.

"Well," he continues, "me and Jada, the other stylist for district 11, threw around some ideas, but I think we found one that both you and Alix will enjoy."

"What is it?"

"Oh, you'll see in good time," he replied, with a sneaky smile.

I find myself, fifty minutes later, dressed in the prettiest and most unique dress I have ever worn. It was made entirely out of pressed flowers. Perfectly preserved goldenrods, still with a beautiful smell wafting from them. A halo of goldenrods rested on my hair, which was hanging casually, yet elegantly on my hair. My makeup was, thankfully, no more then golden eye shadow, nail polish and clear lip-gloss. Lucilla was showing her severe disappointment in this decision as I boarded the chariot.

"Oh look at this face!" She said, patting my cheek affectionately and pouting in a very childish way. "Think of what we could have done with it!"

Nereus nods behind her. I roll my eyes, not wanting to know what crazy capitol fashions she wanted to make me wear. Alix walks over and steps up beside me, and I feel my face growing red. He's wearing plain black pants and no shirt, exposing his well toned chest. "That'll make the ladies out there swoon!" Jada had said while Alix blushed. He had a cape made out of goldenrods and a halo to match mine.

"Feeling confident?" he asked.

"No."

He gives me a rare smile and winks. "You'll be fine. They'll love you!"

"You mean they'll love you," I say, motioning at his bare chest. He nudges me playfully just as a hand rests on my shoulders. I start and turn around, but it's only Romulus.

"Nervous?" he asks.

I nod.

"Don't worry. It's not like you have to say anything, that's not until the interviews, and those are ages off."

My stomach turns unpleasantly thinking about the interviews. Why did he have to mention them now?

"Yeah, right," I say.

Loud music blares, and the tall door in front of us opens. Romulus smiles.

"Just remember. Head up, big smiles. Don't be afraid to lay it on a little thick. The crowd will eat it up."

He waves at us and backs up as the tributes from District 1 ride out.

They look like stars in the sky, wearing outfits of pure white while riding on a chariot driven by pitch black horses. The audience applauds loudly as they wave and smile. Typical, District 1 is always popular with the capitol.

Follows them is District 2, then District 3, and so on. There is suddenly the loud voice of Quirinus Spiros, the official announcer for the Hunger Games.

"Introducing, District Eleven!"

The chariot jerks forwards and I stumble, but Alix wraps his arm around mine and keeps me steady.

"Thanks," I whisper out of the side of my mouth.

He nods as we are suddenly bathed in bright light. There is a sudden hush from the audience as they take in our outfits, but they soon explode in cheers and whistles. I raise my head and smile widely. My eyes dart around the scene in front of me. People pointing and whispering, nodding their heads approvingly. Alix startles me as he waves at the crowd, smiling in a way very unlike himself and winking every now and then at girls. The effect was exactly what Jada said it would be. They flutter their eyelashes and gasp. I resist the urge to snort.

I hear his names being called out from all sides, and realize that I need to be doing something as well. I raise my hand and wave, snatching a flower that is thrown at me and slipping it in my hair, making the crowd cheer even louder. Our names are being called out from all sides as the chariots loop around City Circle. The chariots pull up right in front of the President's house and stop. The music slowly fades out.

President Vasile, a tall skinny man with red hair and a cunning face welcomes us. The cameras focus on each of the tributes, lingering on District 1 and 2, but us as well. I think people are surprised at the elegance of our costumes. District 11 usually sports farmer's outfits. Not a big fan with the fashionistas of the Capitol.

The anthem plays and we ride around the circle again, before entering into the Training Center. My prep team runs up to me, congratulating us on our performance. "Admirable!" Shouted a girl on Alix's prep team. I think I heard someone call her Ambrosius.

Romulus steps up to me, and whispers in my ear: "See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" I smile.

Suddenly, there is a crashing noise. All the tributes turn around, and there, sprawled on the ground next to a tipped over chariot, is Briar. Some of the other tributes laugh and point at us. Just what I wanted, for my stupid mentor to make me a laughingstock. Briar looks up.

"So, the little weirdoes managed to get themselves noticed, have they?"


	5. Chapter 5

So far, our room in the Training Center is the best part of our visit to the capitol. We ride an elevator to the floor right under the penthouse, which District 12 gets. The elevator itself is amazing. It's made entirely out of glass. You zoom straight upwards at amazing speeds, but it takes your stomach a few seconds to catch up.

Petra leads us into the room, her hands on our shoulders. Behind her is Briar, who is complaining loudly to whomever she passes about the huge bruise on her knee after falling. Already sitting on a couch is Gregor, who looks up and smiles as we enter, he is swirling a small glass of wine in his hand.

"There you are, I was getting worried."

"We had a little trouble, Gregor," says Petra.

"Yeah." I grumble, "With her." I jerk my finger at Briar, who immediately begins another rant.

"It is not my fault! It is the careless placing of District 10's chariot… I will be speaking to someone about this, I could have broken a leg…Do they know who I am? Obviously not, or else I would be surrounded by desperate fans." She sighs dramatically. "I'll be in my room." She walks over to a door, opens it, and slams it unceremoniously behind her.

"Where were you Gregor? Didn't you come down to see us?" I ask, walking over and sitting down besides him.

"I'm sorry Ruby, I had no time. I was pulled into one meeting after another, talking to possible sponsors, and because Briar is in no mood to help with any of this…" He looks over his shoulder at the door Briar had left in, "I had to do all of her work for her. She went down to watch, while I stayed here."

My mouth drops open. This is it, the final straw with Briar. At dinner, I am going to confront her and tell her she needs to do her part. Gregor shouldn't be forced to do everything!

Gregor smiles weakly.

"Don't worry about it. When I came back, I watched the replays." He points to a flat screen in front of the couch. "They've been playing them all night."

"Oh, they were absolutely marvelous!" Petra cries dreamily.

"I know they were," Gregor replies with a smile. "Alix, Ruby, you can go to your rooms. Me and Petra have a few last minute things to straighten out for the day, and then we'll call you for dinner, okay?"

We nod and I walk into my room.

It's a lot like my room in the train, but more high-tech. The shower has, if possible, more buttons and possibilities then the last. I rinse off all of the make up and sweat that was sticking on me, and dry myself before wrapping up in a bathrobe.

The bed is made of water, the windows of my room are huge, and with a small remote can let me view anywhere in the capitol. Typing a few commands onto a screen sends a robotic claw reaching into a back room and pulling out an outfit for me. I laugh with glee at a voice-controlled server, and order a bowl full of blueberries, which I pop into my mouth and try to picture myself back home, doing this in the meadow behind my house. There is a knock on the door.

"Ruby? It's dinner time!" Petra's voice calls through the door.

I stand up wipe blueberry juice off my face with a towel laying by my bed, and rush out of the room, not wanting to be late for dinner, in case there is something important that I need to here.

The dining room is on a balcony that over looks the capitol. In the distance, I can see the president's house with the flag of Panem rippling in the breeze. I'm pleased to see the stylists there and immediately run over to Romulus, who pulls out a chair for me. When I sit down, he wraps his arms around me in a friendly hug.

"You were beautiful out there Ruby."

I can't talk for embarrassment.

Slowly, everyone else files in. Alix, who is smiling and sits next to me. Gregor, with an armful of paperwork, and Petra, whose pulling a reluctant Briar outside. Briar is complaining that if she walks outside the world will notice her bruise and she will be forever humiliated or some kind of nonsense like that.

The meal starts out normal enough. Jada, who I haven't had a chance to talk to, yet, is likeable and full of laughter. We talk about our outfits, Briar moans about her bruise, Gregor and Petra whisper about sponsors. We eat a potato soup, and a girl brings out a platter of crackers, thinly cut meats and cheeses, which we all have fun combining and comparing. I laugh as Romulus stuffs a huge tower of crackers and pastrami in his mouth. Alix and Jada applaud. When I really think about it, we're like one big family. We're trying to help keep each other alive.

A young man brings out a pitcher of golden wine, which he silently pours into Jada's and Gregor's empty glasses. Gregor, who is still talking to Petra, turns his head to say something, and his eyes meet the Avox's. His expression changes from laughter to horror. The glass slips out of his hand and smashes against the ground, breaking apart and staining the bottom of the tablecloth brown.

"Gregor, what-" Romulus begins, but Gregor stands up, the papers fall out of his lap and onto the ground. His hands are gripping the table tightly. His face is pale, and he is still staring at the Avox, who looks nervous.

"I-I've got to go," Gregor mutters, and he rushes out of the room.

There is silence. The Avox quickly backs away. I stand up.

"Oh, Ruby, not you too!" Says Petra, but I shake my head.

"No, I've got to go see what's wrong with Gregor."

I run out of the room and begin opening up doors, looking for Gregor. He wasn't even in his bedroom. I wonder if he's left the apartment. But he couldn't have, he's not allowed to, but maybe he forgot. I stop right outside a room, and put my ear to the door. There is a noise coming from inside, something like…crying. I knock.

"Gregor? Are you in there?"

There is no reply, but the noise is quickly stifled. I push the door open. Inside is one of the scariest things I have ever seen. Gregor, my mentor, the one who is supposed to be brave, supposed to keep me alive, is sitting on a couch, with tears pouring down his face. He looks up at me, his eyes are bloodshot. I put my hand to my mouth. Watching this feels forbidden, like something I shouldn't be looking at, but I run over to him.

"Oh, Gregor, what's wrong? What happen, did that Avox hurt you?"

"No…of course not…Lukas would never hurt me…"

"Lukas-" I pause, confused, then my eyes widen. "Wait, you, know that Avox?"

He nods, and the tears fall faster. I don't know what to say, so I put my hand on his shoulder. Then he talks.

"T-that Avox…Lukas…I-Is my brother."

"Your brother?" I ask, surprised.

He nods, and then explains.

"After the failed rebellion…Lukas, told me, when I was about fourteen…that he had had enough. H-he planned to run away from District Eleven. And he did. He left in the dead of night, without telling anyone."

"W-what happened?" I asked softly, "how did he get here?"

Gregor swallowed. He wasn't crying anymore. On the contrary, his face was now quite dry. But this was even scarier to look at. He was beyond tears.

"I've…only heard, up until now, what were rumors…that the peacekeepers taunted my family about. He got a day into the woods before they found him, and took him to the capitol, and made him an Avox. And now…and now I know it's true."

He buried his face in his hands. I realized that tears were dripping down my face.

"They did this on purpose…" he whispers, "They did this to remind me…"

* * *

><p><em>Capitol<em>

_President Vasile's Manor _

"Why did you do it sir?"

"Hmm?" The president was watching a screen intently. There were multiple views, showing him the main rooms of the Training Center apartment. At the moment, his eyes were fixed on a small box labeled 'District 11'.

"Come over here, Dion. Look at this."

Dion Lupei walks over and stands next to the chair the president is sitting in.

"Sir?"

The president points to the box for District 11. "Look at it, Dion. Tell me what you see."

It is hard to make out, because of the black and white and slightly grainy texture. Dion squints his eyes. "It looks like, two people, just sitting there."

"Yes, that's what it would appear to be. But watch this."

The president picks up a small remote and presses a button. The screen shifts, and is labeled 'Camera view 2'. The scene is alarming. A man is crying while a young girl comforts him.

"I-I see."

"Do you know who that is?"

Dion wracks his memory.

"I don't know Sir."

"That, my dear Dion, is Gregor Frye. I believe you came here to ask about him?" He turns his chair around to face Dion.

Dion blinks as he recognizes the man on the screen.

"Yes, in fact I did. I just want to know if you thought this through. Is it really, so, humane to do that to him? He must be feeling very stressed at this time, is it…wise to show him his brother?"

Vasile steeples his fingers together and grins evilly.

"Do you remember, Dion, the conversation we had before the tribute parade? How I mentioned hope, and containing it?"

"Yes Sir, but I don't understand how that has to do with-"

"This, is containing the hope. We don't want to lull these poor tributes of eleven into thinking that they have a chance of winning, do we? No, it was just a little, reminder, to poor Gregor, about what the capitol can do to the people who defy it."

"I notice you're not doing this to Districts One or Two," says Dion, barely keeping the note of contempt out of his voice.

The president turns his chair to watch the screen again, looking at Gregor's tearstained face as though it was an entertaining television show. He waves his hand.

"You are dismissed Dion."

"Wh-oh, yes Sir. Thank you sir." He bows and runs out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Gregor tells me to go back to balcony, and tell everyone he'll be alright; he just needs some time to think things over. This doesn't go over well with the others.

Petra stands up. "Are you sure, he seems upset. Probably the stress is just getting to him. Perhaps I should go see him-" She gets up to walk out the door, but I push her back.

"No," I say "He sounded certain. Can't we just…leave him alone? Please?" I add, as the adults give me doubtful looks.

Romulus comes to my aid.

"Let's just let him be, it seems like he wants to be alone."

"Probably can't stand the attention," says Briar, who has her feet on the table and is checking her mascara in a pocket mirror, "Some of the lesser mortals can't deal with it, the poor dears."

This sentence fills me with a sudden burst of anger.

I casually walk over to Briar, who ignores me.

"That reminds me," I say, and then I take the mirror right out of her hands and throw it on the ground, where it shatters among the shards of Gregor's glass. "You need to get off your self-absorbed, lazy butt and do some work. You are a _mentor_. Act like one."

Everyone stares at me, surprised.

Briar opens and closes her mouth like a fish, and whispers, in a voice very unlike her own, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, you should be!" I shout indignantly.

Briar then stands up and puts her hands on my shoulders, something flashes in her eyes and she begins shaking me.

"It's all my fault! I did it! It was me! They all think it was Clyde but it was me! I killed her! That poor girl, I didn't want to! They made me! I'm so sorry!"

I try to back away, completely bewildered, but her grip tightens, and she continues spitting out nonsense words that make no sense to me. Petra screams and runs for help, Alix grabs Briar's arms and try to pull her back, but to no avail. Romulus and Jada sit there, stunned.

"The snakes! They're everywhere! Stop! STOP! RUN CLYDE! I'LL FEND THEM OFF!" Briar finally lets go of me, and is swatting at the air, fighting off something unseen to anyone but her.

There are footsteps behind me, and Petra runs back into the room, followed by two peacekeepers.

Briar sees the peacekeepers and lunges at them.

"YOU! You dirty rotten capitol workers, go back to Vasile! Tell him I said to GO TO HELL!"

One of the peacekeepers pulls out a small gun and fires it. I scream, thinking that he killed her, but I notice a small dart sticking out of Briar's arm, filled with sleeping gas. She staggers and then falls backwards onto the ground.

We all rush forwards, but the peacekeepers stand in front of Briar's lifeless body.

"Kindly return to your rooms," says one, "We will get her medical help."

I push against them, still trying to get to her. "Will she be alright? What did you do to-"

"Kindly return to your rooms," the peacekeeper repeats, pushing me backwards.

Feeling dejected, I go to my room, feeling confused, embarrassed, and scared all at once. Suddenly the door flies open with a bang that shakes the artwork on the walls. In the doorway stands Gregor, his eyes alight with fury.

"What did you _do_?"

I back up as he enters, worried about what he was going to do, whether he was going to scream at me or shake me like Briar did. My shoulders are still aching from where she grabbed me.

"I…I told her to do some work for a change… It's not fair for you!"

"Ruby! There's a reason I don't talk to Briar myself! I said not to deal with it!"

"I didn't know, I thought she was just being lazy!" Gregor collapses on the bed, and grabs the blanket in his fists, shaking slightly.

"She's in no state to help Rhubarb. She can't help. Whenever she does, she has a fit." I realized that fit didn't mean a tantrum. It meant what I just saw. A complete mental breakdown.

Gregor turns his head towards me.

"Do you want to know the reason Briar acts like this? Why she looks like she's from the capitol?" He shouts.

He continues without waiting for an answer.

"Briar is mentally unstable. After winning the Hunger Games, doctors do a complete check up on you, to make sure you can live life normally after that. They realized that Briar was actually had an indent in her brain after a blow to the head. They did surgery. It went wrong. They altered her personality completely. She doesn't remember anything past the Victory Tour, when a certain memory is brought back, she goes completely mental. I told you not to say anything, I TOLD YOU!"

He says this all very fast, but I don't miss a word. When he shakes his hands, I cringe. He stands up and doesn't look at me.

"You need to know when to keep your nose out of other's people's business. If you don't, you'll be easy game in the arena."

He leaves, and it takes me a minute to realize he was giving me advice. I feel, if possible, even more terrible then before. I have crossed a line, and now it's like I have betrayed Gregor. I want to make it up to him, I need to do something.

_In the morning, _I think, pummeling my pillow, not even bother getting undressed. _You don't want to ruin things anymore then you already have. _

* * *

><p>The morning comes faster then I wanted. In no time at all it is dawn, and a bright orange sun is hanging over the capitol, dulling even the colors of the buildings in comparison to its brightness.<p>

I step out of bed, still wearing the wrinkled outfit from yesterday. I splash some water in my face, and sneak out of the room onto the balcony, hoping to grab some breakfast before anyone else is up. Unfortunately, the one person who I'm trying to avoid, Gregor, is seated at the table. He has dark circles under his eyes, and I'm guessing he didn't sleep at all. I decide to tip-toe away, but the floor creaks under my feet, and Gregor looks up.

"Ruby, come here for a moment," he says.

Swallowing with difficulty, I enter the balcony, pull out a chair and sit down, not meeting his eyes.

"Y-yes?"

Gregor sighs, and I glance up. He has a small smile on his face.

"I believe I owe you an apology. With all that happened last night…seeing my brother for the first time in years-" he breaks off, and then continues. "I overreacted. I shouldn't have yelled at you, you were simply trying to make things easier for me. For that, I thank you."

I smile. "No, it's my fault. You were right, I need to stop questioning everything and leave you guys alone. I guess I just didn't understand the fact that you guys have your own problems in life. It seems like the life of a victor would be…perfect."

"Yes, but everything is not always as it seems." He takes a sip of coffee. "I'm pleased to inform you that Briar will be fine. She'll come back while you're in the training center, so you'll see her later. I would advise you not to do anything to aggravate her. After moments like last night, she is extremely sensitive."

"Of course."

There is the sharp noise of heels against wood, and Petra walks in the room, her curly blonde hair slightly disheveled. She looks at me and purses her lips.

"What—were—you—thinking?" She asks.

"Now Petra, I've already discussed-"

"No. Rhubarb here needs to learn something about _manners_." She pokes her finger into my arm. "You don't question your mentors. One wrong move, and they might not be feeling so partial to find you sponsors. You know how important sponsors are."

"Yes Petra," I say in a dull voice, "Won't happen again."

She narrows her eyes as though trying to find a reason to rant at me, but seems to feel like I made a decent apology. She sits down and snaps her fingers.

"Avox! Breakfast please!" A pair of Avoxes run into the room. Gregor stiffens slightly, but Lukas isn't one of the two.

They put out platters of steaming hot food, and as Alix walks into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning, one actually puts a cup of coffee into his outstretched hand.

"Thnks…" he mumbles and sits down next to me. He throws back his head and swallows the entire cup in one gulp, only to begin coughing loudly and waving his hands in front of his mouth.

"HOT! Oh my-that was burning hot!" He looks at Gregor, Petra, and I as though seeing us clearly for the first time this morning. "Why did no one tell me?"

I answer, trying and failing to hold back laughter. "You didn't ask!"

Still taking large, steadying gasps, Alix asks, "So, what's the plan for today?"

Petra reaches into a pocket on her dress and pulls out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Her eyes dart up and down the paper.

"Just the Training Center for you two," she says.

Gregor looks up. "Ah yes, thank you for reminding me Petra, I wanted to talk to them about that." He leans over. "Now, you'll probably hear this from the head trainer, Livia, but I cannot stress how crucial it is. You need to make sure to spend plenty of time at the survival skill stations. How to light a fire, camouflage yourself, heal small injuries, identify poisonous berries from edible ones, all of these things are important to your survival. Yes, you should learn to standardize yourself with a weapon or two, but death by another tribute is only part of the whole. The Gamemakers want a show. They won't hesitate in using poisons, fire, or muttations against you."

Alix and I let this sentence sink in, and eat in silence. Gregor speaks again.

"Are either of you good with a weapon?"

"Well…I can use a…a whip," says Alix, his cheeks going pink, "I used to use it in the farms to cut the tops of wheat off the tillers."

Gregor rests his head on one of his hands. "A whip…hmm…that's a weapon you don't often see one use in the arena, but no doubt it would be useful, most of the tributes wouldn't know how to fight against a whip, maybe not even the careers. The problem would be finding a whip in the cornucopia. Though I do suppose if the Gamemakers think you have potential with one, they may purposely put one in there…" He turns to me.

"What about you Ruby?"

I can't ever think of using a weapon throughout my childhood. My mother wouldn't let me anywhere near the knifes while she made dinner. The only kind of useful thing would be the throwing darts me and April used to play.

"I've never used a weapon. But, I can throw darts pretty well. We used to play those kinds of games as kids."

I catch Alix's eye and he smiles, reminding me of a particularly amusing memory, concerning a stray dart that got stuck in his hat.

"Throwing darts…I guess that could relate to throwing knifes or daggers, by a stretch…I would try to focus on those if you think you could fight with them."

I nod, and Petra checks a rhinestone encrusted watch on her wrist.

"Well look at the time! Quarter to ten already! You two, come with me, I'm taking you to the Training Center."

I wave goodbye to Gregor as we exit our apartment, trying to remember everything he told me. We take the glass elevator down to the bottom floor, and when it opens I gasp.

The room is front of us is gigantic, filled with every kind of weapon imaginable. Bows and arrows, knifes, swords, spears, and nun chucks among others. There are multiple human shaped dummies, with bull's-eyes marking the most fatal parts; the brain, the heart, the eyes. There are computer screens with animals and plants pictured on them. Multiple cages for hand-to-hand fights with the trainers. Rope courses for climbing, Platforms for jumping, tracks for running. Small stations resembling different environments, with tools for lighting fires, building snares, and buckets of paint for camouflage. There is a small platform where the Gamemakers sit, guarded by gun wielding Peacekeepers.

A few of the tributes are already there, bunched up in a group, but not talking to each other. Their eyes are darting around the room, deciding on where to start. A trainer walks over to us and pins the number 11 on my back. They then do the same to Alix. We stand near the others, and wait for the final tributes to come in. The pair from 9 walk in nervously, the girl looking as though she might blackout. The two from 5, and, finally, the kids from 12.

We gather in a circle, and the head trainer, Livia walks over.

She explains the things that Gregor already told us, along with the fact that we are not allowed, at any time, to engage in physical contact with the other tributes. She begins reading a list of the different stations, my mind drifts, and I instead focus my attention on the other tributes, remembering the ones who I had picked out from watching the reapings. I catch the eye of the boy from 4, and he winks at me. I feel myself blushing and turn back to Livia, who dismisses us.

The careers immediately run to the swords and combat stations. The girl from 8 begins a conversation with the trainer running the snare station. I look around, trying to find something that is open, and my eyes find the rope station. Being from District 11, I have some skills with climbing and jumping, and I feel like that would be a good place to start. I look questioningly at the trainer running the station and she nods at me, so I begin climbing.

It's easy enough while the ropes are straight and have that rough texture that makes them easy to grip. I get through those quickly. The ropes then turn flexible and slippery, and I find my hands struggling to grab hold of them. With effort, I make my way through those, and they change to stiff and brittle, and then wet and fraying. Wiping my brow, I finish the course, and then challenge it a second time, this time going over the other side. I grit my teeth as the ropes turn me upside down, trying to ignore the fact that from this angle I can see a boy from district 1 lopping off the head of a dummy with a sword. I spend another half hour on the ropes, by the end of which my hands are as blistered as after a day out in the fields.

After that I move on to the edible berries station. It's more of a game, matching berries with their descriptions. It's easy for me, living in a district where plants are second nature. I learn some things I didn't know, like using flint to start a fire when matches are unavailable, and to tie basic knots for traps.

Surprisingly, we don't go back to our rooms to eat, but go to a small cafeteria space right next to the training center. It's an all you can eat buffet, you can just keep coming back for more. There are small tables to sit at. The careers take 2 and push them together, talking in loud aggressive voices. I notice that the boy from 4, who ought to be sitting with the other careers, is at a table by himself, staring at the back of the girl from 4 with a sour look on his face. Me and Alix sit together, making small talk when we aren't eating.

After lunch is the same. I keep away from the weapons, still not sure of what to pick, and continue perfecting my survival skills.

It's the same for the next few days, by which then my head is spinning with fires, plants, and traps. My legs ache from when I have sprained them jumping too far or climbing too long, and I haven't even started with combat.

This all changes the day I pick up a knife. It's the final day before the private sessions with the Gamemakers, and I want to spend it training with weapons. I feel all of the Career's staring at me as I enter what they've come to know as their 'territory'. I have a small conversation with the trainer, explaining my lack of experience. She explains the best ways to hold and throw a knife, and I make sure to do exactly what she tells me. She points to the dummy closest to us, which is about 20 feet away from us, and tells me to aim for the chest.

"Wait, you want me to throw the knife, all the way over there?" I ask cautiously.

She nods.

I swallow uncertainly and bring back my arm, aware of the whispers surrounding me. Staring hard at the target, as though willing it to come closer, I bring my arm forward and let go, closing my eyes as soon as I feel the hilt leave my fingertips.

There is silence. Not the clatter that means it fell to the ground, which is good. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and hear Alix's voice in my ear.

"Open up your eyes."

I do as he says, and there in front of me is the dummy. With the knife stuck in the center of its chest.


	7. Chapter 7

"It was a fluke."

"Was not. You should have seen the look on everyone's face."

"They were probably laughing at me."

"No, they were shocked and amazed. You showed them."

"_Alix_! Shut—up!"

It was dinner, and Alix couldn't help but telling everyone what I would not. That I hit the dummy, not just once, but over and over again after that.

"And even the Careers-" he begins.

I turn towards him.

"Look whose talkative now, mister I-can-cut-the-heads-off-dummies-with-a-piece-of-rope!"

That shuts him up.

Gregor looks like he's on the verge of laughter.

"Great job, both of you," he says, "is this what you think you'll show the Gamemakers tomorrow?"

We both nod.

"Well, get a good rest, both of you, and be ready for scoring tomorrow."

* * *

><p>In what seems like no time at all, I'm standing in the line for our private sessions. It moves extremely, agonizingly slowly. The boy from 10 goes in, his face white as paper. The door closes behind him with an echoing bang. I'm next.<p>

"So, this is it," I say after a few minutes

Alix nods, just as the door opens and a disembodied voice calls out: "Tarrowell, Rhubarb!"

I walk forward.

"Score high," Alix whispers behind me.

I smile nervously as the door closes. Walking forward, my hands shaking, I step in front of the Gamemakers.

You can tell immediately that most of them have had a few drinks. Their eyes are unfocused and they're hunched over, faces pale. The only one who is watching me is the Head Gamemaker. You can tell because, while the rest of them are wearing black suits, his has a diagonal red stripe from his shoulder to his hip. His hands are in his lap and he stares at me intently as soon as I walk in the room.

I swallow, and begin speaking with a shaky voice.

"Rhubarb Tarrowell, District Eleven. May I begin?"

The Head Gamemaker nods. Some of the other Gamemakers have realized there is someone in the room, and turn to watch.

Breathing deeply, I stand in front of a row of dummies and grab two knifes. Some sort of bravery seems to overcome me, and I throw them, both lobbing themselves right in the middle of two dummy heads, and they split in half, stuffing spilling out of the broken seam.

I smile to myself and turn to the Gamemakers. A few are nodding encouragingly. The Head Gamemaker has his eyebrows raised, and our eyes meet. His eyes seem to say _Come on; you can do better then that. _He's right. I can do better.

A sudden reckless urge comes over me. I pull the knifes out of the dummies, fall on the ground, roll onto my back, and throw. The knifes fly through the air, and cut the metal cords holding two of the lights over the training center. The fall to the ground with a crash right on the area the careers would always use. There is a scream behind me and I turn around. One old lady had fallen out of her chair. The others around her looked angry. Some of the guys look impressed.

I look at the Head Gamemaker. _Is this what you wanted me to do? _I think. He smiles slightly and nods.

"You're free to go, Miss Tarrowell," he says.

"Thank you," I say, and run out of the room as fast as my bruised legs would carry me.

* * *

><p>I'm back at the room, sitting on the couch next to Briar and Gregor. Briar, for once, is paying attention. I think Gregor talked to her in a way that didn't make her go nuts. He's good with stuff like that.<p>

"So, you threw the knifes at the dummies, and then you left? That's it?" Gregor asked.

"Er, no," I say, "I actually cut the cords of some of the lights hanging over the sword fighting area. And they fell to the ground. And broke."

Gregor's eyes widen.

"Wait, you did- Why in the world would you do that?"

I paused and thought about what to say. 'I had a mental conversation with the Head Gamemaker' would probably make me sound like a lunatic.

"Well, I didn't think it was enough. I wanted to do something they would remember."

"Well the people who have to fix the lights will certainly remember you," says Briar, rolling her eyes.

Gregor gives her a look.

"It was definitely a rash decision. What did the Gamemakers do?" he asks.

"The older ladies didn't look happy, but I think the Head Gamemaker liked it."

"You mean Dion Lupei?"

"Yeah, sure, I don't know his name."

Gregor crosses his arms.

"This is Dion's first year as Head Gamemaker. I've heard he's from District One. How he got into the Capitol is beyond my imagination."

There is a knock at the door.

Gregor looks over his shoulder.

"Come in!"

The door swings open, and there in the door is Alix, his arms held by two peacekeepers.

"Alix?" I ask, "What did you-"

The peacekeepers push him into the room.

"In you go. And remember, we'll be watching you," one says.

They leave. Gregor rolls his eyes.

"If it isn't one thing, it's another," he mutters, then speaks to Alix. "What happened?"

Alix looks angry. His arms are red from where the peacekeepers had grabbed him.

"_Nothing_!" he hisses.

I cock my eyebrow. "Didn't look like nothing."

Muttering under his breath, he collapses on the couch.

"Okay, so it wasn't nothing." He finally says. "I whipped the guns out of the peacekeepers hands."

Gregor jumps up.

"You _what_?"

"I didn't know what to do with the whip, so I wrapped it around the top of the gun, and tugged it out of their hand. Twice."

Gregor runs his hands through his hair. Briar looks unperturbed. I'm impressed.

"Nice," I say.

Gregor looks at me as though I just impressed that I wanted to make out with Briar.

"No! Not 'nice'! Do you realize that the Capitol will not take this lightly? That is viewed as an offense! They will make sure to punish you for that."

He throws himself back onto the couch.

"It'll all depend on the score they give you. You'll undoubtedly score high if they want the other tributes to view you as a threat. That's the easiest way to get you killed."

Just as he finishes that happy statement, Petra skips into the room.

"Turn the screen on!" She orders eagerly. "They're starting to put up the scores!"

With a click of a button, the screen blinks on. And just in time too, Quirinus Spiros is sitting at a glass desk, explaining the point rules to all the viewers.

"...One to Twelve," he was saying, "based on how impressive the Gamemakers felt their performance was." He coughs and straightens his green bowtie.

"First, District One!"

As always, the careers score high. Both get nines.

Other high scorers are Districts 2, 4, and 8. The other districts get low to medium.

You could feel the room tense up as the last numbers from 10 fade away.

"And now," says Quirinus, "District, Eleven!"

First is Alix. I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding in as he gets a nine.

Petra pats him encouragingly on the shoulder.

Now it's my turn. I feel a hand wrap around mine, and turn to see Alix, who puts his finger to his lips as I open my mouth, and points to the screen just as they show my number.

A ten.

"No. Way," I whisper.

Everyone else looks just as confused as I am.

"What about me?" Asks Alix, letting go of my hand and throwing out his arms. "What happened to the fuss they made over it?"

"What's the matter, you didn't seem so eager about getting a high number before," I hiss.

I don't know why I'm so angry, I should be happy I got a good score. That would mean better odds, and more sponsors. I guess Gregor's comment unhinged me a little. But it's not that. I realize it as I'm in my room getting ready for dinner.

If the capitol knows that me and Alix share a close bond, wouldn't the best thing to do would be to torture him by making him watch his friend suffer?


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning is full of surprises. I walk out into the balcony to see Romulus and Jada already seated at the table, talking in whispered voices and looking over papers.

"What are you doing?" I ask as I sit down, grabbing a cup of orange juice that is immediately placed in front of me.

"Planning for tonight," says Romulus without even bothering to look at me.

"Tonight?" I ask, confused, "What's ton-Oh!"

The interviews. In the rush of the past week, I had totally forgotten about them. But something comes up that worries me.

"Wait, what are we supposed to do for the interview?" Being in front of cameras makes me nervous. Smiling and waving is one thing, actually talking is another.

"That's where me and Briar come in," says a voice behind me.

I turn around to see Gregor walking in with Alix, who sits beside me.

"To do what?" I ask.

"You know, basic things. Manners, posture, how to respond to questions, that sort of thing," Gregor replies.

"Wait, you're telling me that Briar is going to teach us about _manners_?" That just seems ironic.

Gregor smiles slightly. "Oh, you'd be surprised at what she knows."

"And what does she know?" Calls a drawling voice, and a second later, Briar walks into the room.

"I was just telling them that you'll be teaching them manners for a few hours today. You did agree to do that, right?"

Briar nods and sits down, resting her feet on the table and right in front of my face. I hold back the urge to yell at her.

"If anyone needs a lesson in manners, it's these two tramps," she says, waving her hand at us vaguely.

I look at Alix, who grimaces. Gregor leans over to Romulus.

"How are you two doing? Everything ready?"

For the first time all morning, Romulus looks up. His hair is unkempt and he needs to shave.

"We've been working on it for ages." Romulus says. He leans in and whispers something in Gregor's ear.

Gregor nods. "Clever…and you're sure it will work?"

Romulus shrugs but does not elaborate.

Briar stands up. "Well, better get started, these two need all the help they can get." She looks at us distastefully. "Follow me."

I follow her out of the room. Alix pushes aside his half-eaten pastry and follows suit.

She takes us to the rooftop of the Training Center. It is covered with flowers and smells amazing. I would have liked sometime to browse, but Briar pushes me away.

"Throw this on over your clothes," she says, "Then put these on."

She hands me a frilly pink dress and shoes with foot long heels. She gives Alix an expensive looking suit and black shoes shined so well I can see my reflection in them. He pulls a face, but I roll my eyes. He's not the one wearing heels, now is he?

After we change, Briar makes us stand, roughly pulling our arms and legs into what she called 'suitable posture'.

She makes me walk with the heels on, and more then once I fall over after taking a few steps.

"Careful you idiot, you'll rip that dress!"

Thank you for caring about my safety.

She tells us how to hold ourselves. Head up, straight back, smile at every moment. Not sure if she would know this, but it's somewhat hard to smile convincingly when your body is aching.

Alix looks more embarrassed then I feel. For one who doesn't smile a lot, Briar is making him hold a grin for an hour. When she finally tells us we can leave, saying: "Well, you'll never be as perfect as me, but I did my best," I waste no time pulling the dress off and running down the stairs.

"Hey, wait up!" Calls Alix, grabbing onto my arm so he can catch up. Laughing, I slow down so we can walk side-by-side. He rubs his cheeks vigorously.

"They hurt?"

"You have no idea."

We go back to our room, where Gregor tells us he's going to take us one at a time, and instruct us on responses to the interview questions.

I go first. We walk into my room and sit on the couch overlooking the window.

"Now," Gregor instructs, "as an interviewer, I will want to know all about you. The crowd loves stories from home. What you need to do is decide how you want to come off. Cute? Aggressive? Sly? It's your choice, you just have to stick with it the entire games."

I think about it. Aggressive is definitely out, I can't even yell at our neighbor's dog when he's trying to use the restroom on our porch. I don't want to be cute, or sly, but what else is there to choose?

I push the hair out of my eyes. "I think I want to appear, sensitive."

"Well that's a new one. Where did you come up with that?"

"I don't know, I just mean…none of the other things really seemed, me. I want to be who I really am. I want to show the Capitol that I'm not a killer, and they're not going to make me one. I'm be thoughtful and caring, maybe sarcastic. I think they'll like that."

"We'll just have to see."

He begins asking me questions. About my past, what I think of the capitol, and even of my outfit, which I pretend is a gorgeous dress instead of jeans and a plain shirt. At the end of the session, I'm feeling confident about myself.

"Well, you did good," Gregor says. "Tell Alix to come in, will you?"

"Yeah, sure no problem. Thanks, by the way."

"Hey, I'm just doing my job."

* * *

><p>A few hours later, I find myself once more in the hands of my prep team.<p>

They paint my nails neon green, and paint vines up my arms, finishing the ivy with flowers on my shoulders. Then comes the makeup, which I guess Romulus finally let them do. They are all grinning as they cover my lips with pink lipstick, put blush on my face, and green eye shadow on my eyelids.

After they're done, Romulus walks into the room, holding a dress that is covered by a paper lining. He looks better, at least he got a chance to shave and brush his hair.

"Can I see it?" I ask, pointing at the covered up dress.

He smiles. "Not until you're wearing it. Close your eyes."

Anxious to see what he's come up with, I do as he says, and feel the softness of velvet around my body. I run my hands down the side and gasp. The outside is nothing like the inside, it feels as though it's made out of snake scales. Smooth, but hard.

I Romulus zips up the back.

"Okay, open your eyes."

Cautiously, I do, and when I get a look at myself, I throw my arms around Romulus's neck. He laughs.

"Careful now, don't want to ruin any of your makeup, do we?"

The dress is sleeveless, and looks like the screen we have in our room. It's made out of tiny scale-like chips, colored sky blue, the bottom green and feinting the color of grass.

"It's lovely," I whisper, rubbing the fabric between two fingers.

"And you haven't even seen the best part!" Romulus says. "Look, walk over here, but keep your eyes on the mirror.

I step over to my left, and my mouth drops open. The dress shifts with my body, the clouds on the sky pattern seem to move, and the grass ripples in the simulated wind.

"Now, spin a little," Romulus says.

When I do, the grass seems to fold downward, and a small sprout begins blooming, as I finish a complete spin, the stem is curled around my body, and fully blossomed at the top. There seems to be a fake sun shining.

"How in the world did you come up with this?" I ask.

He leans casually against the wall. "Well, it took ages, but we finally figured out a way to make it work. Holographic," he says when I look at him questionably.

A capitol assistant comes in. She's gathering all of the tributes into the main hall.

"Show them what you're made of!" Romulus says as I leave.

The woman takes me to one of the doors right outside the stage. Alix, Gregor, Petra, and Briar are already standing there.

Petra absolutely fawns over my outfit as I twirl. Gregor claps respectfully and Briar raises her eyebrow and mutters, "Not bad." Which is the best complement she's given me since I met her.

Alix nods. He is dressed almost like before, with black pants. But this time he has a green button up shirt. I guess flowers are too girly, but he looks very impressive.

Petra ushers us into our seats, where we sit in a semi-circle along with the other 22 tributes. She leaves, and the interviews begin. Quirinus Spiro, with his purple skin and hair, looks comical in a yellow suit, but he has a humorous attitude and years of experience. He knows how to play the crowd just right.

One by one, the tributes go up. Like always, the Careers from 1 and 2 come off fearless and ferocious, the girl from 2 almost comical with her gorgeous looks and a fierce nature. The kids from 3 stutter often. The boy and girl from 4 have very different personalities. Hers is usual Career, his is charming and funny. No one else is very impressive, though the muscular boy from 6 throws off everyone with his kind nature.

7, 8, 9, 10, 11.

With shaking hands, I stand up as they call my name. The lights are even brighter as I get closer to center stage, the Capitol citizens just vague outlines. Quirinus shakes my hand as I sit down.

He beams at me, "So, Rhubarb-"

"Ruby," I intervene. Then, blushing, mutter, "Call me Ruby, please."

Like always, nothing throws off Quirinus.

"Ruby of course." He coughs before continuing. "So, District Eleven. How is the capitol compared to your home?" I feel everyone's eyes on me. I can almost tell that, all across Panem, people are staring, waiting for my response.

"Well, it's very colorful, even brighter then the flowers from back home. And, I absolutely love the outfits. I mean, I saw a woman the other day with a beautiful lilac colored dress."

I can hear the women in the crowd cheering as they argue over who that girl was.

"Yes, yes, we are very unique, aren't we?" He asks the audience, who replies with even louder cheers.

Quirinus crosses one leg over the other. "Now, your training score, that lovely ten, beating even those from one and two. Tell us, how did you accomplice that?"

"Well, I mean, I trained very hard, practicing all week." But I can tell this isn't the response the audience is looking for.

"Come on," inquires Quirinus, "Think you can explain a bit more?"

I know that it's against the rules to talk about your private session, and so does he, but I can't help but saying, "Well, let's just say, there's always a first time for everything."

Quirinus chuckles good-naturedly.

"About that dress of yours, couldn't help but seeing it as you walked in. Lovely thing that is, really brings out your good looks."

I blush slightly and nudge Quirinus' arm. The crowd eats it up.

"Come on now, lovely girl like you. Who agrees?" He calls out into the audience.

Everyone cheers loudly, and I feel my confidence growing.

"Now," says Quirinus, "Any plans for winning the Games?"

"Oh come on now," I say, "don't want to spoil the surprise now do I? All I can tell you is that it'll be something like you've never seen before." I wink at the audience.

You can barely hear the buzzer going off as they cheer.

"Aw, too bad, our time is up. Our best wishes to you Ruby!" He presses his lips against my hand as I get up. Going back to my seat, I walk as Briar instructed me, and my dress blooms in front of everyone as I turn to sit down. Even as Alix begins walking up to the center, I can see people staring at me.

As Quirinus begins talking to Alix, I can't help but marveling his attitude. The silent, stiff boy I know is gone, replaced by one who laughs easily, and is completely relaxed in front of the cameras.

He and Quirinus joke back and forth, talking about every topic from the food, to the colors of the buildings.

"A strapping young man like you, you've got to have a special girl somewhere," Quirinus says.

Alix shakes his head.

"Come on now, I don't believe it for a minute."

"Well, when you're out in the farms all day like I am, you don't have much time for girls. I mean, Ruby," he motions towards me, "and this girl back home April, we're like best friends. Nothing can get between us."

"So you and Ruby have know each other for a long time?"

"Ever since we were little kids."

"And do you ever worry about her, when you think of the upcoming games?"

"Every night. If I can't achieve victory, my main goal will be to keep her alive."

The crowd loves this, and as the buzzer goes off, you can hear their disappointment. Quirinus wishes Alix luck and Alix sits back down.

The anthem plays, and the tributes file back into the training center.

"Did you really mean it?" I whisper to Alix.

He nods. "Every single word."


	9. Chapter 9

_Ruby_

The night before I go into the arena is a nightmare. I can't sleep at all. I start to drift off, and my mind falls into dark dreams filled with images from previous Hunger Games. A boy with his face cut in half, a girl who gets her eyes gouged out by a group of llama mutts, 2 twins who are pushed off the top of a valley and land on the ground with a sickening crunch. Will I be one of the deceased? Will I die as they did, at the hands of children, maybe even younger then myself? It makes my stomach turn unpleasantly just thinking about it. My death could be tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe even next week. My demise is almost sure to be coming soon.

I close my eyes and try to think of the good things in my life. Alix, Romulus, Gregor, they're all like best friends, even Petra does her best to be lovingly. Back home there is April, Dedalius, my mother and father, they're probably watching me with their noses pressed against the screen, praying that I stay alive long enough to come back home and see them.

I turn towards the clock projected on my wall. 2:36 a.m. It's going to be a long morning.

* * *

><p><em>Gregor<em>

It's late and I should be sleeping, but I just finished organizing a sponsor for Ruby and Alix, and there's still a file of paperwork that needs to be signed. My hand aching, the pen in my fist running out of ink, I sign my signature yet another time. There is a knock at the door.

"Come in," I whisper.

There are footsteps and the door clicks shut, but the person doesn't say anything.

"What do you need?" I ask, looking up from the documents. The rest of my statement dies in my throat as I see the person standing in front of me. My brother, Lukas.

I grip the pen so hard my hand goes white. Lukas starts walking towards me, and I shake my head.

"N-no, don't I don't need this, not now…"

But he nods and continues walking like some sort of silent specter.

"Lukas…don't do this to me…please…" I whisper, my back hits the bedpost, and I silently wish I could go through it right now. Just melt away and not have to face the things I don't understand.

Lukas sits down at the edge of my bed and smiles at me. It's a brotherly smile, the kind he used to give me when we were kids out in the meadows and I tried to lift a shovel 2 times my height.

He holds out his arms and I immediately jump into them. He's 5 years older then me, and we're both grown men, but I feel like I'm eight again, and we're at home during a thunderstorm.

"You don't know what it's like…I thought you were dead for so long…we all thought you were…"

He tussles my hair, and I look up at him.

"But…it must be worse, living like this, as a servant."

He shrugs, but I know he's constantly in pain. He lets go of me, and I do the same. He gets up, and makes a motion as if he's wearing binoculars. I know what he means. They could be watching us.

He waves at me, and I wave back, dazed, before he's gone, and the room is silent once more.

* * *

><p><em>Alix<em>

I pound my hands against the wall. It's unfair, it's all unfair, why should we be forced to suffer, when the capitol people lounge about eating delicious foods and not working a minute of their worthless lives? Tomorrow I'll be in the arena and what then? Usually I'd have a basic plan. Grab whatever is nearest you, whether a bag or a weapon, even one you don't know how to use, grab it and run for shelter, food, and water. But this is the quarter quell, and who knows what tricks those rotten Gamemakers have hidden up their sleeves?

And what about Ruby? I know I promised to save her life, but do I even know how? What if it comes down to me and her? Would she have the guts to kill me, even if I told her to? Would I even kill myself, or be hesitant to die, and kill her instead? No, I would never do that, not even if I must sacrifice my own life. Or would I?

* * *

><p><em>Ruby<em>

Petra knocks on the door with her annoying catchphrase: "It's a big day, go out and face it!"

Little does she know I've been up for hours with absolutely no sleep, waiting for her to say that. I'm already dressed, and I rush out the door before she's even had the chance to walk away, knocking her off her feet as the door bursts open.

Romulus is waiting for me at the table. He tells me to grab something to eat on our way to the hovercraft that will take us to the arena.

My throat feeling tight, I manage to gulp down a muffin. My fingers play with the clasp of my mother's necklace, which I remembered to put on this morning.

The hovercraft is like a giant grey panel. A ladder drops down from a hatch, and when I step up on it, my hands stick to it as though it's covered in quick-dry sap, like the kind that grows on pine trees.

Still stuck to the ladder, a woman in a white lab coat comes over with a long syringe. My eyes widen as the lethal looking point catches the light.

"Nothing to worry about," the woman assures me, "I'm just putting in a tracker for the arena."

I find that being injected with a 7-inch long needle is something to worry about, but I suck it up as the point pierces my skin. I'll probably face worse in the arena.

The suction keeping me to the ladder releases me soon after, and I rush to the window, hoping for some kind of foreshadowing of the troubles lying in wait for me. But all I can see is the tops of trees, so close I feel as though I can touch them.

I sense we're nearing the arena, and I don't know what to expect. A gigantic sliver dome in the middle of the woods?

Unfortunately, I don't get to see, as the windows black out as we begin descending. No sneak peeks for any tributes, I'm guessing.

Again, I'm stuck to the ladder as it descends down a tube glowing with florescent green lights. I enter the Launch Room. There's one Launch Room for each tribute, each has never been used before and will never be used again, because they never reuse any of the arenas, unless you could Capitolists on vacation.

Romulus helps me change into the simple tribute outfit, a black jacket and sweatpants, with a belt and long knee high boots. Normally I don't like boots, but these will be great for storing things like knifes and matches and they have a springy sole, which will be useful for jumping.

Romulus pulls my necklace out from beneath my jacket, where the Mockingjay feathers barely touch the zipper.

"It's a lovely necklace," he says. Like always, even in times like these, my stylist has an eye for fashion.

"Thanks, it was my mother's."

There is a pause.

"She'd be proud to have a daughter like you."

I snort. "You think?"

He looks serious.

"Come on, some one with your looks and attitude and skill, even right now when your in the face of danger? Not many parents can say they've raised a kid like that. I bet half the tributes are quaking in their boots.

He makes me smile, and I throw my arms around him.

"Thanks Rom," I say into his shoulder.

He pats my back. "No problem. Good luck Ruby."

A voice comes on through the intercom overhead.

"Tributes, prepare for launch."

Still holding him, I back onto the silver plate behind me. Finally, I let go. Romulus nods, and I swear his eyes are watery. A clear tube slides around me and I know this is it, there is no going back. Breathing deeply, I wave at Romulus as the cylinder begins to move upward, and then he is gone. I am in total blackness. Then, there is light, so bright that I have to blink multiple times to see my surroundings.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Booms the voice of the Hunger Games announcer, Silas Antoniou, "Let the One-Hundredth Hunger Games, Begin!"

It's a swamp. In the minute I have to realize this, I can smell the naturally grimy air, see the fog drifting around our ankles, and hear the splashes as frogs and other unknown animals dive into the murky water. To my left is a bog, with tall reeds and cattails. To my left is a foresty looking area, with willow trees so bent over their long leaves hide the inside. Surrounding me in a semi-circle are my fellow tributes. Then I look to the middle, and this is when you can finally see this is no ordinary Hunger Games.

Instead of the usual cornucopia overflowing with hundreds of items to help you survive, this year's is practically empty, with a small bunch of items grouped in the very center of it. I notice the Careers staring at it hungrily and know that I have no chance whatsoever of getting anything. And so my survival rate drops even lower then before.

* * *

><p><strong>I've been experimenting with chapter formats, so if you like how the begining of this chapter is set up (Different character point of view for the same time) please tell me, because I have a few other chapter's I'm wanting to do that with.<strong>

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

10...9...8...

Dion Lupei crossed his arms and looked at the scene laid out in front of him. 30 Gamemakers seated in a circle, their hands a blur of motion as they add the final touches to the arena below them. In the middle of the circle is a small platform with a 3D view of the arena.

"All systems online?"

"All on Mr. Lupei!"

"All tributes' current location know?"

"Ye-wait, one second!" The young Gamemaker types a few things into the computer in front of him and presses a button to his right. There is a buzzing noise, and the symbol 10M lights up in the cluster of tributes.

"Okay, all set!"

"Good. Now set up some cannons, and give me a close up on Area A1, Cornucopia."

* * *

><p>7...6...5...4...<p>

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the boy from 10 wince and grab his arm as though burned. I look back at the cornucopia and put one foot in front of the other, prepared to run for it as soon as the gong sounds. I squint to make out the items. I see a crossbow, a gleaming suit of armor, and a large bag. The rest is hidden in shadows.

* * *

><p>3...2...1...<p>

Dion smiles grimly. "Showtime."

* * *

><p>I jump off the platform and dive as a Career jumps over my head. I desperately want to grab something, but stop as the boy from District 2 takes the girl from 12 and snaps her head back.<p>

I hear the bang of a cannon that means someone has died. That changes my mind.

I shift paths and run into the tall grasses on my left. Behind me, there are screams, but I do my best to ignore them.

I gasp as the ground suddenly turns to mush and I am waist high in mud and swamp water.

I can't help but feeling happy as I look at the water sloshing around me. Dehydration won't be a problem this games. But my happiness doesn't last long. I kick my legs, but I'm stuck and I can't scream for fear that someone finds me. I grab at the reeds, but they are slick and slide out of my grip. I freeze as I hear shouts and heavy footsteps behind me. What if the careers find me? I would be an easy target.

All of a sudden, arms wrap around me and a large hand covers my mouth. I try to scream and pull myself out of their grip, but whoever it is has strong arms and refuses to let me go.

I give up, feeling useless and done for. I'm a failure, I didn't even last half an hour in the games. I bet the Gamemakers already have a cannon ready for me. Suddenly the person behind me whispers,

"Stay quiet if you want to live."

It sounds like a male voice. I do as he says, not like I have much choice. To my immediate right, blocked by only a few layers of grass, I see the outline of a body, and a girl's voice.

"Velvel! Pius! Let's check for them over here! And watch out, the ground gets muddy over here!"

She moves ahead, followed by 2 or 3 people.

Then there is silence, broken only by a series of cannon shots. My heart is beating too fast to count them all.

The person behind me takes his hand off my mouth. I turn my head around and find myself face-to-face with the boy from District 4. He's laying on the ground right before the mud.

"See, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" He says. "Now, how about I get you out of there."

He wraps his hands around me and with a huge pull, manages to tug me out of the water. The ground barely shifts and then freezes, looking innocently like solid ground.

"T-thanks," I say.

"No problem. Hey, you might want to clean those pants."

I look down to find the bottom half of my body covered in mud.

"Oh, right. How do you suppose we-"

"Like this."

He dips his hands into the mud, waves them around so the water surfaces, and cups his hands so that the water fills them. He puts his hands over me and lets the water spill out. It washes away a surprising amount of the mud.

I reach over to help, but he pushes me back.

"No, it's fine, I can do it. Just relax."

I lean back and sigh. We don't talk for a minute, then he says,

"My name's Faris, by the way."

"I'm Ruby," I reply.

Another minute of silence. We both look up and say at the same time, "Allies?"

He smiles.

"Sure, why not? Oh, hey, I think I'm done."

My pants and shoes are clean, but soaking wet. It's extra weight, but not as heavy as dragging along mud.

"Thanks," I say again, before standing up to look around. He stands up beside me.

"I'm pretty sure they're gone. Did you get anything?"

I shake my head and Faris swears.

"Damn. As far as I could see, that kid from Seven, Ivan, got the bag of food, at least I think its food. And the Careers got everything else."

"Then what are we supposed to do for food here?" I ask.

To my surprise, he points to the reeds.

"We make nets."

"To catch what, dragonflies?"

"I guess you forgot where I come from."

He clenches a group of reeds in his fist, wrenches them out of the ground and stuffs them in my arms.

"Hope you like fish."

* * *

><p>After walking around collecting sticks and looking for things we could use later. (I had found a curved rock that we could use for collecting water) We set up camp in a small area where the ground was at least fairly dry, and the grasses are long enough to cover us up. We sacrifice a few of the cattails for fuel, and create a small, barely smoking fire. The sun in the arena is starting to go down. I tend to the fire while Faris weaves. The net is huge, and it's only half finished. It's amazing how fast his fingers move, and every now and then, I stop to watch.<p>

"So, how many dead?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual.

"As far as I could hear, about nine."

"Only nine?"

Faris looks up. "You wanted to enjoy more slaughter?"

"No! Of course not! It's just, usually more people…" My voice trails off, but he knows what I mean.

"Yeah, I guess they're just getting smarter. Most of the kids knew they had no chance of getting those items and ran for it. One of the kids from…Eight I think…got stuck in the quagmire, so when I saw you trapped there, I knew I had to save you."

"But why me? You could have paired up with the other Careers, you're from District Four."

He snorts. "No way. When I was talking to them in the Training Center, I could tell we wouldn't get along. The other girl from my district, Patricia, she's with them."

Faris looks down bitterly.

"Never liked her," he added.

"And you chose me because-?"

"Because my mentor Anne told me to make allies. Even if you have got to kill each other in the end, a duo is better then a loner. So I looked. And I saw you, flinging that knife across the room and hitting straight on target, spending most of your time on survival when the kids from one and two only cared about how many dummies they could behead by the end of a training session. I knew that we could help each other."

There's another bout of that uncomfortable silence.

"And so we can, at least, for as long as possible," I say.

Faris smiles and his aqua eyes gleam, even in this dim light.

"I knew I picked right," he says.

Suddenly I hear the Capitol anthem, and distinctively look up in the sky. The Capitol symbol shines for a moment, and then shows the faces of the dead tributes. Faris was right, nine dead.

The girl from District 5, both from 6, both from 8, the boy from 9, both from 10, and the girl from 12. All dead, all gone.

* * *

><p>"Status update?"<p>

"Night has fallen. Most of the tributes are in zone B2, but we have two in A2, and three in F1."

"Let's see how they deal with this. Activate Tundra Night Mode."

"Yes Sir, Mr. Lupei!"

There is the clicking noise of keys being pressed, then a red light above the 'temperature' switch turns on, and the giant thermometer begins lowering.

"Tundra Night Mode engaging," says a computerized voice, "ten degrees in 5 seconds."


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry about the long delay without any updates, I had some computer trouble, and then lost all of my notes for this chapter. Hope you enjoy, I promise I'll be writing more soon!**

* * *

><p>I turn towards Faris.<p>

"Nine down, Fourteen more to go."

He nods, his face grim. There is a sudden gust of wind, and what little fire we had goes out.

"What the-" I look around, as though expecting a career to jump out of nowhere. But something worst happens. In the period of about 3 seconds, the temperature drops to about zero degrees. The grasses freeze in place and collect a frosty layer. There is a loud cracking noise as the water turns to ice.

"O-oh my g-gosh," I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself and shivering as the cold sets in. This is the Gamemakers' way of messing with us.

"F-Faris, what are we g-going to do against t-this?"

It's all part of the show, to get the action moving. There might be some very warm area somewhere, they're hoping we'll move together and start fighting, or die of hypothermia sooner or later.

"With this," Faris replies. He takes the net he was working on and swings it over my shoulders.

"Wrap it around you," he instructs, "It'll trap the heat in just like it traps fish."

I do just that and, of course, he's right.

"But what about you?" I ask as I see him shiver. "You'll freeze to death!" "No, I'll be fine."

"No, you won't be."

I crawl over to him and wrap the net around him as well.

"There, we can share."

He looks doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, we're allies. I'll stay up and watch, you can get a few hours of sleep."

He shrugs and lies down. I stay seated and rest my head on my knees, poking the frosty ground with a stick. Faris turns over to look at me, his head propped up on his arm.

"Early tomorrow, we'll get up to fish. I'll teach you how, alright?"

"Mmk," I yawn.

"Maybe I should take the first watch."

I look at him, his eyes seem to be laughing. I frown.

"What are you trying to-"

"Nothing! You just, looked tired, that's all."

I sigh. "Yeah I'm tired. We've been walking around all day, and I didn't get any sleep last night, I was so worried."

"I understand," he says calmly, "Just relax. Nothing's getting past me."

I laugh quietly and huddle up. I close my eyes, trying to fall asleep, trying to ignore the fact that someone or something could try and kill me at any moment. Okay, I have to admit, that doesn't help. But then something happens that does.

A quiet whistle fills the air, and I open my eyes to see Faris sitting up, his lips pursed as he gently whistles. It's a calming tune, slow and sweet, like one we would whistle in the meadows and it would travel like a wave through everyone working. I find myself drifting off to sleep.

I'm being nudged awake.

"Hey, Ruby. Wake up, it's your turn."

"I'm up, I'm up," I mutter.

I open my eyes and gasp as I find myself pushed against Faris. He raises his eyebrow.

"Cold much?"

I shove him. "Shut up, it's just for survival."

"Whatever you say!" he whispers in a sing-song voice.

I throw a reed at his face. He catches it with ease.

"Go to sleep before I throttle you," I say through my gritted teeth.

Still smiling, he lays down. But he must be tired, because in a few minutes he's asleep. Now that I'm awake, my mind is racing. The other tributes could be anywhere, plotting to kill us. And what other tricks do the Gamemakers have up their sleeves? Another cold burst of wind hits me, and I begin coughing. Suddenly my throat his paper dry. When was the last time I had a drink of water? A few hours ago there was a muddy puddle I had taken a few sips from. It was warm and left a metallic taste in my mouth that still hasn't gone away. That should be my first priority. Water. Although my stomach is aching from lack of food, the amount I had been eating at the Capitol should hold me for a few more hours. What could I do for water? The swamp water is probably filled with sickening things that I could catch diseases from. Then it hits me.

The frost on the grass, unless the Gamemakers specially engineered not to, should melt when the temperature goes up. Then I remember that the temperature may never go up. But it's worth a try.

I slowly stand up, trying not to wake up Faris. The net falls off as I step forward, and I only realize then how warm it was keeping me. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, my breath fogging in the cold air, I walk over to some of the slimmer reeds. I bend down and grab some at the base. The frost on the bottom melts in my hand, the cold so bad it stings, but I smile vaguely as the water drips down my hand, already beginning to turn to frost.

The reeds rip out of the ground with a tearing noise and I turn around. Faris turns over but doesn't wake up. Reaching over to grab the curved rock, I place the reeds in it. Hopefully by morning, the water would have melted off enough for a cold drink.

I walk over to wrap myself up in the tent, but freeze as a bright orange frog hops out of the grass and in front of me.

"Shoo!" I whisper. "Get out of here!" The frog croaks loudly, and if frogs could give nasty looks, this one would have. It swells up angrily, then opens its mouth. Nothing could have prepared me for what happens next. The frog makes a kind of choking noise and a stream of green goop flies out of his mouth.

"AHH!" I jump to the side. Unfortunately my elbow hits Faris in the face he wakes with a start and grabs his nose. I lean up as the frog gives me one last look and hops away. The puddle of liquid is oozing, and melting away the tips of the reeds touching it.

Faris grumbles something and I turn around.

"Notice, this didn't happen when I was keeping watch," he mutters, massaging his bruised nose.

"If you didn't notice, that frog spit. Acid. Acid!"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time. Just try and let me get some sleep, _please_."

"Fine," I say through chattering teeth. I'm not sure if it's because of the cold, or the frog.

I should have known that everything here is deadly in one way or another, and this time I don't move a muscle as I keep watch for the next hour, unless you count when I practically had a heart attack as I heard a distant frog croak.

Faris wakes himself up just as the sky around us is becoming tinged with pink. As I assumed, the weather is becoming warmer as the sun begins rising. The frozen reeds have already begun to defrost, though they aren't dripping water, which I find odd. Faris cracks his fingers and gets up, looking perfectly awake. He hold out his hand for me, because I'm still crouched on the ground, my arms crossed over my knees.

"Come on now, we need to get a move on. We've stayed still too long."

Without waiting for me to reply, he grabs my arm and pulls me up, practically ripping my shoulder out of its socket with his surprising strength.

"Geez, be careful, you could have torn my arm off," I say.

He shrugs and leans down, bundling the net up and stuffing it in my arms.

"Why do I have to hold this thing?" I complain.

"Because I'm the one whose going to be teaching. And you're going to do exactly what I tell you."

He begins walking away, fiddling with something in his hand. I start to follow him, before I remember the reeds I had pulled out for water. I turn to look for it, but it is nowhere to be seen. I turn back towards Faris.

"Hey, Faris, did you see that rock that I-" I cut off as he turns around. He's holding the rock up to his mouth, water trickling into it.

"Give me that!"

I lunge for it but he holds it out of my reach. He stares at me, his eyes twinkling, before pushing it into one of my hands. There is still a small amount left in it.

"Thanks," he says, and walks away.

I stand there for a moment, confused. Faris peeks his head between the reeds.

"You coming?"

"Wh-oh right, hang on." I get a better grip on the large net, and follow him.

"So," I say, falling into step with him, "what are we looking for?"

He puts his finger to his lip and whispers, "A pond, or stream. Some large source of water."

"How are you going to find it in all of this?" I wave the small amount of my arms that aren't holding the net, indicating the marsh around us. "You can't use mud to find it, there's mud everywhere." I pull my boot out of the ground as it sinks into it.

"Just trust me, I know what I'm doing." He falls silent.

I can't argue about that. Being from District 4, he's grown up with water his whole life.

We walk in silence, the landscape unchanging. Every few seconds Faris holds a hand to his ear, listening for something. I'm not sure what, I can't hear anything past the buzzing of the unseen insects flying around.

Suddenly he grabs my hand.

"This way," he hisses, then begins running, pulling me along behind him.

I struggle to keep up with his fast pace. He moves like a panther, swift and silent. My boots slosh in the mud, and the reeds smack me in the face. Finally, he pulls me over to the side. He lets go and I stumble, almost landing face first in water and muck.

"Here. Right here," Faris says.

In front of us is a skinny stream, with almost perfectly clear water. My mouth drops open.

"How did you-"

"Find this place? Running water always leaves trails. Plus, you can hear it easily. This is the only stream in miles."

He kneels down on the ground and holds out his hand. I pause, confused, then I realize what he wants and push the net into his hands. He begins tying complicated knots into the end of the net, explaining in detail how we are going to use the net, and what kind of fish he is expecting to catch, but I'm not really listening. At least, not to him. I'm waiting for the tell-tale sound of mud sloshing, or reeds breaking, for I sense we aren't alone.

Faris stands up, still facing the water. He wipes his muddy hands on his already dirty pants. He's still talking.

"-this rate, we're bound to make it to the finals!"

I open my mouth to reply, and then I hear the twang of a bowstring and feel someone's hot breath in my ear.

"I wouldn't be so positive Flower Girl. Turn around."

My heart leaps into my throat as I spin to face the person. In front of my face are 5 careers, and an arrowhead pointed straight at my chest.


	12. Chapter 12

My heart seems to be beating faster then normal. From behind me, I can hear Faris taunting one of the other Careers.

"Hello, _Patricia_." His voice is scornful. "Having fun with your friends?" He spits out the last word as though it was poison.

"Oh we're having a lovely time. We're already deciding the final eight. I see you aren't hoping to get very far." She looks me up and down. "Really Faris, I though you could do better."

"Ruby is a much better survivor then you ever were, or will be."

"Well, it looks like Ruby here won't be alive for much longer. Whenever you're ready, Velvel." Her voice is high-pitched and girly. Extremely annoying.

The boy, Velvel, who had the crossbow aimed at my chest grinned.

"Bye, bye Flower Girl," he said, and fired.

My eyes immediately snap shut. I was waiting, waiting for the point of the arrow to penetrate my chest, and for blackness to overcome me, but nothing happened. There was a choking noise, and I open my eyes slowly.

The boy Velvel is still standing in front of me. But his triumphant grin was now a look of horror. The crossbow fell from his hands to the ground, and I could see, quite clearly, the back of the arrow embedded in his throat. One of the other Careers, the girl from One screamed,

"VELVEL!"

The rest of them were frozen in terror, not even bothering to save him. Velvel staggered and fell to his knees, coughing. Blood splattered the ground. His blood covered hands weakly grabbed for the arrow. He finally got a good grip on it and pulled. It slid out of his throat with a sickening noise, leaving behind a large gap that was pouring blood all over his chest. I look at the arrow. The feathers that decorate the back of it are as sharp as knifes.

Velvel's eyes roll back in his heard, and he falls forward to the ground. There is the bang of a cannon, then absolute silence.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Don't worry, this is not all of chapter 12. I repeat, this is<span> Not all of chapter 12.<span>**

**I'll be gone for a few days with no access to my computer, so I won't be able to type anymore for a little bit. I thought I would post this now, because of my huge delay in giving you Chapter 11.**

**As always, Reviews are welcome and wanted!**


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